


Whiteout

by Rand0mSmil3z, silver_doe287



Series: Midgar Paranormal Investigators [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Happy Ending, Paranormal, Paranormal Investigators, Wholesome vibes, the struggle is real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28320303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rand0mSmil3z/pseuds/Rand0mSmil3z, https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_doe287/pseuds/silver_doe287
Summary: After the terror of the Shinra Manor, the team decides to put ghost-hunting on hold and take a well-deserved vacation. What could possibly go wrong?
Series: Midgar Paranormal Investigators [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974103
Comments: 13
Kudos: 28





	Whiteout

**Author's Note:**

> **Rand0mSmil3z** : Merry Christmas / Happy Holidays / Happy New Year! I can’t believe that the year is almost over. Like honestly, mentally I’m still stuck somewhere in April, but now it’s December?? What?? I literally ~~couldn’t~~ didn’t do anything this year, so where did the time go??? But anyway, I hope you all enjoy this story <3 Here’s to hoping 2021 is a good one
> 
> Silver_doe287: Merry Christmas everybody! Here's some more of our fun AU series for you - this time the scooby gang tries to take a well-deserved vacation but some people (ahem Cloud) just can't old habits go. Not to mention the newest ghostly member to the party is definitely inserting himself more and more... Enjoy!!

They were royally _fucked._

Cloud kicked at the snow-covered exhaust pipe in frustration, but nearly missed thanks to the constant shivering that had his teeth chattering and lips blue against his all-too-thin scarf. The path for the exhaust from the running van was cleared and steam began to puff happily outwards once more as his goal was finally achieved. Swirls of large snowflakes tugged at his blond hair and, as they melted, dripped down his bangs and streaked against his cheeks like tears. It was an effort to wipe the water and snowflakes away while wearing his thick choppers, so he settled for angrily blinking at the van.

 _“Stupid thing,”_ he cursed at the howling wind, then shifted his gaze to the rest of the team.

Zack’s black snowboarder’s jacket and thick winter garments were hardly discernible through the snow flurries, but there was no mistaking his occasional curse as he fastened a tow rope to the hitch of the van. “So damn _cold,_ ” he hissed as his hands, wrapped in thick gloves, fumbled with the icy rope. “Why did the… stupid van… gotta get stuck _here?_ ”

Ignoring him, Cloud followed the rope back to Cid’s van, and he easily found the man himself securing his end thanks to his gaudy red hat that was like a beacon against the white backdrop. He was braced against the weather, one knee bent in front of him for balance, while the wind raged and tore against the bitter landscape.

“Zack’s good!” Cloud called, and Cid merely grunted in response.

Barret, barely visible through the white swirls of snow and wind, was hunched over as he tried to dig out quickly piling snow under that van. If Cloud squinted he could see that Barret’s lips were moving, but the larger man’s mutterings were snatched away by the weather.

Another gale ripped across the road - or rather, what was left of it - and Cloud shuddered as another shiver wracked his body. He _ached,_ as if the winter cold had frosted his bones and left them bleached and brittle, and cursed as another icy blast of wind cut through him.

Out of all the weekends to forget his nice winter jacket... 

Cursing his stupidity, he blinked over his shoulder to see how Zack was doing, only to blink again in surprise when Zack suddenly appeared at his side. “Go back inside, Spikey,” Zack ordered over the din of the blizzard, then added with a crooked grin, “Wouldn’t want you to turn into a popsicle out here.”

“Asshole,” Cloud muttered, but was more than happy to oblige. He stumbled through the waist-deep snow of the ditch, hissing as the piles of cold, wet white further soaked his jeans, and towards the side of the van, where he knocked against the door best as he could. His teeth chattered as the door swung open and air, warm enough to sting his icy cheeks, swept over him, and then a pair of hands grabbed him and helped him back inside. The door was shut behind him.

“You dumbass,” Yuffie greeted.

“Cloud, are you okay?” Aerith asked in concern, her hands rifling through a tall pile of blankets. “Your lips are blue!”

“Told you that you shouldn’t have gone out there,” Yuffie helpfully added.

“Sh - Shut it, Yuffie.” Cloud stripped his damp sweatshirt before accepting the blanket Aerith handed to him, and wrapped himself up into some sort of frozen, shivering cocoon. “And th - thanks, Aerith. I’m okay.” His breath came out in barely more than a whisper; the cold must have gotten into his lungs, and he did his best to gulp in the warm, fresh air from the maxed out heater. Another involuntary shudder wracked through him, and for a brief, wild moment, he thought about ditching his soaked jeans as well. He immediately discarded the idea, however; sure, he was cold, but he wasn’t _that_ cold.

Tifa, sitting in the driver’s seat, was watching him with a concerned expression. “How about you come up to the front? The heater’s up here, and you’ll warm up faster. Maybe we can dry your clothes, too.”

Cloud’s cheeks heated, but Yuffie’s loud, _“What?”_ interrupted any and all thoughts he had. “But,” Yuffie loudly continued, “this is _my_ seat! And this is _my_ heating vent!”

“Yuffie!”

“Ugh!” Yuffie crawled over the passenger's seat and into the back, and Cloud tried to ignore her put-off expression as he maneuvered around her and into the front. As the heat blasted straight onto his frigid face, he let out a sigh. He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the simple luxury of warmth.

Aerith, still sitting in the back, leaned forward slightly. “Need anything else, Cloud?”

Cloud, his eyes still closed, murmured a faint, “No thanks.”

“How’s it going out there?” Tifa asked. 

Cloud, one eye squinting open, nearly answered as he tilted his head at her, but before he could the radio suddenly squawked, _“All ready back here!”_ Zack’s cheerful, if somewhat wavery voice, blasted out of the speaker. _“Go ahead and put it in neutral, Tifa.”_

“Aye aye.” Tifa pulled down on the shifter until it was in the right position, then added, “Ready.”

_“Hit it, Cid!”_

Zack must have left his radio on, because the van was suddenly filled with the squealing of tires and the revving of an engine. Cloud held his breath in anticipation; everyone did, really, as the van jolted. There was a harsh grinding sound, the muted crunch of snow being crushed beneath tires, and then a sudden groan as the van rocked back into its original position. Then, the only sound was the wind howling outside.

_“SON OF A -”_

Cid’s colorful language echoed from the speaker, and Cloud and Tifa shared a nervous look. 

“Guess that didn’t work, huh,” Aerith murmured.

Yuffie loudly groaned in response. “Come _oooooooon_ . Seriously? I want to be at Icicle Inn looking at the pretty views, enjoying the bar, and _relaxing._ I can’t do that in the middle of a _blizzard!_ And _definitely_ not in the middle of this _gods-forsaken mountain!_ Wait,” she suddenly added, going wide-eyed. “What if we get stuck out here forever? What if we _die?_ ”

“We’re not going to be stuck out here forever,” Tifa said matter-of-factly.

“And,” Cloud added, “no one’s going to die.”

The radio crackled back to life. “ _Looks like it’s a no-go here, guys. Looks like you need to clean out your exhaust pipe again, too.”_

Cloud’s lips pressed into a thin line. _Maybe I spoke too soon,_ he thought as he turned his gaze out the window. The _last_ thing he wanted to do was to go back out there, especially when he was just beginning to feel like an actual human being too, and not a human-sized popsicle.

“We’re gonna try doing the same thing again?” Cloud asked, if only to delay the inevitable. This was beginning to feel like a lost cause, and a dangerous one at that.

Cid’s harsh sigh echoed through the speaker. “You got any other bright ideas, Sunshine?”

Cloud made a face. “Well, no…” he began, but then the sound of a throat clearing behind him had him turning around.

Sephiroth, the ghost that attached himself to Cloud back in the Shinra Manor, was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of Aerith’s pile of blankets, his body facing Cloud and his head tilted slightly. As usual, his green eyes were bright and inquisitive, and his pallid face remained devoid of all expression or emotion. Coupled with the hospital gown, he looked completely misplaced considering the blizzard raging outside.

“Cloud,” Sephiroth greeted nonchalantly.

Cloud turned to face him more fully. “What are you doing here?” It wasn’t often the spirit made an appearance, especially since they weren’t attuned enough to visit for long periods of time yet. Cloud had tried a few times, but he always seemed to get a headache after a few minutes of talking with Sephiroth. It had gotten better, but the process was slow.

“I’m always here,” Sephiroth said simply, and then tilted his head further. “I have found adequate shelter for you.”

Aerith covered her mouth with a hand, while Tifa and Yuffie only stared at him with a mixture of shock and curiosity. Neither of them had gotten used to the fact that Cloud, the once-upon-a-time self-declared nonbeliever of anything ghost related, now spoke to a ghost on the regular.

“What?” Cloud blinked, his eyes darting to the outside of the van again at the lack of visibility, before he turned back to Sephiroth. “Where?”

“Follow me.”

Cloud’s stomach sank. “Outside?” he asked, already knowing the answer. Sephiroth leveled him with a look, one that was admittedly deserved, but Cloud pressed on regardless. “We’re in the middle of a blizzard, Sephiroth, and we can’t just leave our only shelter.” _Especially since I forgot my good snow gear,_ he mentally tacked on, and once again he cursed his stupidity.

Yet Sephiroth didn’t reply; he only disappeared, which left everyone else staring at Cloud - save Vincent, who was napping in the back.

“Cloud?” Tifa’s voice brought his attention back to his childhood friend. “Did Sephiroth say something?”

“He said he found ‘adequate shelter’,” Cloud quoted with actual air quotes from inside his mittens. “Whatever that means…”

“ _What the hell is that thing on your right?_ ” Cid’s voice asked grumpily from the radio. “ _Is somebody outside?_ ”

As a group their heads all whipped to the right to see what Cid was talking about. There, hovering a little ways away from the van, was a bright light, so bright Cloud found he couldn’t look at it directly. He’d never seen anything like it. It was almost as if the light was waiting for something…

“It’s Sephiroth,” Aerith called back into the radio. “He told Cloud he found us shelter.”

There was some mumbling on the other end of the receiver and he heard a few choice words such as “following a damn ghost” and “doesn’t even get cold,” but they were overruled by an exclamation of triumph from Zack. “ _Sweet! If Cloud’s ghost buddy has a plan, I’m in! Anything beats trying to dig out two vans - screw that shit, let’s go!”_

“ _Fine,_ ” Cid’s voice growled. “ _We’ll follow the ghost into the wilderness. I hope he remembers we’ll freeze to death if we’re out there too long._ ”

Despite Cid’s snarky tone, the rest of the group began to repack their things. Aerith set about packing as many of her blankets into a bag as possible, while everybody else - save Cloud who only sighed sadly at his soaked favorite hoodie before accepting his fate and peeling it back over his shirt - bundled up in their winter gear. After tossing a pitying glance his way, Aerith told him to keep the blanket. Cloud, too grateful to be embarrassed, simply muttered his thanks and mentioned that he owed her one.

Once Vincent was shaken awake, courtesy of an enthusiastic Yuffie, then they were ready to go. Cloud decided to leave his heaviest bag, one filled with some paranormal tracking devices that he thought to bring, because it would only slow him down.

 _Hopefully the cold won’t break them,_ he thought glumly, then slipped on his beanie and, with a sharp intake of breath, opened the door to the van.

The wind immediately bit into his face, and Cloud grit his teeth as he forced his way outside. The snow seemed to have only piled up higher; had they waited much longer, and they might have been snowed into the van.

“Guess it was a good idea to leave,” Tifa murmured, echoing his thoughts.  
Cloud grunted in response. He might have agreed, but considering how the icy wind was leaching the warmth right out of him, he wasn’t ready to admit it. Instead, after confirming everyone had made it outside and the van was locked, they all trudged to the second van where the rest of the team was ready.

“This sucks,” Barret greeted. His arms were crossed tight against his chest, and his nose was buried in his thick scarf. “Next time, I say we go to Costa del Sol for vacation. At least there, we don’t gotta worry about freezing ta death.”

“Oh, quit yer griping,” Cid barked, “and let’s _go._ The sooner we leave, the sooner we get outta this weather!”

Tifa stumbled towards the front. “And stick together,” she added, looking at everyone in turn. “The last thing we need is someone getting separated and lost out here.”

After a chorus of agreements, they all began their hike. They walked single file through the bitter snow, with Barret leading and Cloud right behind. The girls and Cid were sandwiched in the middle, and Zack and Vincent took the rear. Together, they all marched after the light that was Sephiroth. The wind howled, the snow crunched beneath Cloud’s boots, and the icy wind numbed his fingers and threatened to tear away the blanket he was desperately holding onto. At one point, his beanie was torn off and carried away by a strong gale. He didn’t bother looking for it, but his wet hair made the absence quite known by the way his spikes caked into icicles and plastered to his numb face.

As they walked, Sephiroth’s light shone steadily in front of them, guiding their way through the snow. The wind whistled through sickly, dangerously swaying trees. Smudged outlines of dark branches stretched bare against a white sky. Blistering snow caked their clothes and rubbed their skin red and raw.

Then, just when Cloud was wondering if they had all made an awful mistake coming out here, Barret shouted, “ _I see a cabin!”_

Sure enough, Sephiroth’s cheerful light twinkled merrily in front of it, and by the time the team made it to the front door, the light disappeared entirely. Cloud tried to convey his thankfulness as he stood behind Barret, hunched over to hide from the wind, as the larger man knocked heavily on the door.

When no one answered, Cid shouted from the rear, “Just beat the thing down already!”

So they did. The wooden door gave way with surprisingly little resistance, and they all practically fell over each other in their rush to get in. Snow spilled onto the rug. The wind spat ice crystals into the entrance way. Yuffie began shrieking for someone to shut the door, and someone did - Zack perhaps, or maybe Vincent. Cloud, half-collapsed against a nearby wall, didn’t see who ended up closing the door, nor did he particularly care. He was just grateful to be out of the wind.

But just because it wasn’t windy, didn’t mean that it was stunningly cold. The hardwood floor was like ice against his damp clothes, and the cabin’s dry air chafed his wind-burnt cheeks. Comfort didn’t seem to be coming anytime soon, either. The floorboards creaked and groaned beneath everyone’s collective weight, the walls trembled with every gust of wind, and water steadily dripped down the fireplace’s stone chimney. Spiderwebs, frozen in lacey patterns, were draped across the ceiling and clung to the corners. Snow had piled against the windows, which only made the cabin that much darker. Dust danced in what pale light remained.

All in all, Cloud wished that he was back in the heated van, and he almost wanted to call on Sephiroth so he could tell the ghost as much.

Barret was the first to catch his breath, and was also the first to rise off of the floor. Frowning as he inspected the rest of the room, he eventually said, “I’ll look for some firewood.”

“I’ll help,” Tifa said as she got to her feet as well. Also giving the cabin a once-over, she pursed her lips and added, “I hope there’s more blankets somewhere…”

“And a change of clothes.” Vincent was seated beside Cloud, and his red gaze flicked towards the crimson cape he seemed to always be wearing. It, like the rest of his attire, had been soaked through by the snow. Cloud could see it dripping onto the floor… and he knew, beyond any measure of doubt, that he wasn’t doing much better himself.

He cleared his throat. “I can help look for supplies, too.” His voice was a bit scratchy, and though his limbs still felt numb and heavy, he managed to push himself to his feet. Wrapping the damp blanket around himself, he added, “Don’t want any of us catching colds.”

Cid grunted his agreement. “Vincent, you and Cloud go and find us some change of clothes and extra blankets.”

“If there is any,” Yuffie muttered grumpily from her spot on the floor.

Cid ignored her. “Aerith, you and Yuffie can go look fer some grub. I don’t know about any of you all, but I could _eat._ And as for you, Zack,” he added after a breath, “you look far too comfortable. Go help Tifa and Barret with the firewood.”

“Cid, are you bossing around my team?” Tifa teased. Or at least, Cloud was mostly sure that she was teasing, as she still sounded breathless from the cold they’d just left.

“Nah, it’s okay, Teef.” Zack slowly pushed himself upright, then yawned. “I’ll help look for firewood.”

Aerith glanced around the room, arms crossed protectively over her chest. “I hope whoever owns this place doesn’t mind that we’re staying here…”

“Nah, they don’t give a shit,” Cid stated matter-of-factly. “If they did, they’d have cleaned this place up a little. My guess is that this place is some sort’ve huntin’ base.”

Yuffie paled. “A _hunting_ base?”

“Or somethin’ like it,” Cid replied with a shrug. “Anyway, they probably only use it durin’ the summer, when it’s huntin’ season. It would make sense why this place is abandoned, at any rate.”

Vincent wrung his cape out by the front door. “Or maybe,” he murmured as frigid water splashed onto the floor, “the previous owners died here, and now their spirits are trapped in this cabin, waiting for their next victim to keep them company.”

Silence descended heavily on the room, and it was only broken by Tifa’s eventual, nervous chuckle. “You’re kidding,” she said, and then she glanced at Aerith. “He’s kidding, right?”

“I’m kidding,” Vincent deadpanned.

Cid sighed. “Vincent, what have we talked about regarding making jokes?”

“That I shouldn’t.”

“That you shouldn’t,” Cid agreed, and that was the end of that.

The cabin was modest in size, and yet somehow the hallways felt longer and the few rooms seemed darker than they should have been. The stairway was particularly dark and cold, and Cloud’s breath clouded the air as he and Vincent made their way up to the second floor. Something felt… _off,_ but he couldn’t figure out what. Though the ceiling sloped downward to greet them, and though the walls looked as if they were leaning towards them, he didn’t feel claustrophobic.

Instead, he was hyper-aware of the _distance_ between everything. Vincent felt impossibly far away despite there being only inches between them, the walls he brushed against felt unreachable, and a part of him was surprised every time he looked up and saw a ceiling instead of… _Instead of…_

His brows pinched when he realized he didn’t know _what_ he was expecting. Maybe he had been expecting to see stars, or a cloud-speckled sky… or maybe he was expecting _nothing_ above him; and _nothing_ was a black abyss, simply a dark expanse hanging above him, threatening to fall.

The notion sent shivers running up and down his spine, so he kept his gaze firmly on the floor.

Vincent opened the first door they came across. Its hinges squealed as it opened, and he made a noise of appreciation when he glanced inside the dark room. “Bedroom,” he explained at Cloud’s questioning glance, and then stepped inside. “We should be able to find some clothes here.”

Cloud poked his head into the bedroom as well. It was dusty, even dustier than the living room, and _cold._ He shivered and pulled his damp blanket tighter against him, which did little but stir the dusty air and send him into a sneezing fit. 

A faint chuckle echoed at his side, and though Cloud couldn’t see Sephiroth directly, he did glare at the ghost’s general direction. “Don’t laugh,” he ordered. “This is your fault.”

Vincent paused rifling through the dressers just long enough to give Cloud a long, blank stare. “I didn’t laugh,” he eventually pointed out.

“I know.” Cloud opened one of the closets, which was an effort in of itself thanks to his numb fingers. _Shit,_ it was cold. “Wasn’t… talking to you.”

Vincent stared at him a moment longer, then recognition flickered across his expression. “Ah,” he said, then went back to the dresser and let the conversation thankfully end. While Cloud had gotten used to Sephiroth’s presence, actually _talking_ about the spirit felt… different, somehow, like he was sharing a secret that didn’t belong to him. Not fully, anyway.

It wasn’t long after that they found their first score: an old, tattered blanket off of the double bed, and then a little later, some folded flannel button-ups, faded sweats, and several pairs of thick socks that looked _incredibly_ welcoming despite their musty scent. Most of the clothes turned out to be summer attire, such as t-shirts and shorts, which only proved Cid’s theory that this cabin was only used during the summer.

The second bedroom had much of the same, and after stripping both beds of their blankets and relieving the dressers of their long-sleeved shirts, pants, and warm socks, the pair made their way back downstairs by some unspoken agreement. Vincent’s silence was one of his characteristics that Cloud appreciated the most; the red-cloaked man didn’t press questions, push for answers, or idly chat about nothing to pass the time. It was relieving, the silence.

Someone had pushed one of the couches closer to the fireplace - the _unlit_ fireplace, Cloud noted glumly - and that’s where they dumped their finds. Aerith had been arranging her blankets in neat piles in front, and her eyes lit up at seeing the extra clothes. “Great finds!” she exclaimed. “Are those sweatpants?”

“Yeah,” Cloud said, sniffing a bit. “Vincent found some in what looks like a kid’s room. Maybe they’ll fit you and Tifa?”

“We’ll make them fit,” she laughed. “And also, Barret, Tifa, and Zack found some firewood in a nook outside! They’re grabbing as much as they can so we can keep a fire going all night -”

“Thank the gods,” Cloud cut in.

“- and,” Aerith continued, smiling a bit, “Yuffie went to find a lighter.”

“What about food?” Vincent voiced then. His deeper voice almost sounded concerned, which was rare for him. “Did you and Yuffie find -”

“ _Hell_ yes!” Yuffie called out, and they turned to see her awkwardly shuffle towards them with arms laden canned soups, canned fruits and vegetables, dried meat, spam… It looked like she had found the entirety of aisle eight in the local grocery store, and Vincent hurried forward to help her. “It’s a zombie apocalypse paradise in this house!” she continued as she happily chewed on a stick of beef jerky. “They had enough canned goods to get them through a whole winter, like old soups and stuff, and I think there’s some jugs of water back there, too. But like,” she said as she unceremoniously dumped the cans, “most of the food is expired. But that’s okay! Expirations are really only suggestions, and it’s either this or gnaw on the walls.”

Cloud made a face.

“So help yourself! I’m gonna go get more. And _this -”_ she reached down and swiped one of the shirts Cloud had found, a child-sized pink flannel, “- is mine.” And with that, she turned right around and went back to where she had come from, humming a traditional Wutai battle song all the while.

As tempting as the canned foods were, particularly the canned chili, Cloud immediately grabbed the fresh clothes he had been eyeing earlier: a pair of black sweats that didn’t smell as musty as the rest, and an oversized gray flannel that would fit him like a second blanket.

“I’m going to change,” he said to no one in particular, and then he glanced at Aerith and Vincent; Aerith had abandoned sorting her blankets and was now organizing the food, and Vincent looked like he was claiming the spam. “Which way to the bathroom?” he asked.

Aerith pointed down the only hallway on the main floor. “That way.”

“Thanks.” Cloud hurried to change, teeth chattering and fingers fat and numb. Even his _throat_ felt raw, undoubtedly from the icy wind they had been hiking through, and he decided to find himself something hot to drink the moment he was in dry clothes. _Maybe tea, or hot chocolate if we have it?_

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that it didn’t occur to him to glance over his shoulder. If he had, he might have noticed Aerith’s curious glance at the wall and then the quick shake of her head, as if telling someone to _shh._

But he didn’t glance over his shoulder, so he didn’t notice. Instead he changed as quickly as possible, hung his dripping clothes over a dusty shower curtain rod, and then returned to the living room. While he had been gone, Barret, Tifa, and Zack had dragged in all of the firewood and Tifa managed to get a fire going. It cheerfully crackled in the fireplace, and its warm light flickered red against the floors and set their shadows dancing against the walls. Cloud hadn’t seen anything so beautiful in his life, and happily perched himself across from it among everyone else.

“Here,” Tifa said, and suddenly a mug of something warm was being pushed into his hands. “Instant coffee,” she said at his questioning stare. “Found some in the kitchen cupboard.”

Cloud took a sip; it was watered down, but at the moment, the heat it provided was easily the best thing he had ever tasted. “Thanks,” he murmured.

Tifa only smiled and nodded in reply.

Soon, everyone else had changed out of their snow-soaked clothes. Someone had even been kind enough to grab Cloud’s wet clothes and, because Yuffie had tied a string from one wall to the other, everyone was able to hang up their clothes to dry. The situation was still bleak: they had no running water, no central heating, and definitely no cell service to call for help, but they were warm. They were dry. They had a ton of food. Things were going okay.

Cloud leaned back against the couch, his body heavy with exhaustion. _Tomorrow,_ he told himself as he slowly drifted off. _Tomorrow, we’ll head back to the van, dig it out from the snowdrift, and then… and then we’ll..._

“Well.” Yuffie’s voice suddenly cut through the quiet, as well as Cloud’s drowsy state. Rousing himself, he blinked open his eyes just in time to watch her place her hands on her hips and finish, “We’re screwed.”

 _That_ was enough to wake him up fully. “What?” he said brilliantly.

“We’re screwed,” Yuffie repeated.

Vincent, who was standing against the fireplace mantle in an attempt to dry out his red cape, crossed his arms over his chest. “How so?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

“Yeah, how so?” Cid leaned forward from his spot on the couch, his hands clasped over his knees and face flushed with cold. He must have recently gone out for a smoke, judging by the faint smell of cigarettes that permeated the musty air. “The way I see it, we’re doing jus’ fine.”

“Mmph,” added Zack, who was sprayed out in front of the fireplace like a log.

“So, you know how I was looking for water? _By myself,”_ she added with a pointed stare at Aerith. Aerith was sitting on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and she only smiled prettily as Yuffie huffed and continued, “Well, like, I _thought_ there were some gallon jugs of water back there. You know, like emergency rations or something.”

“And?” Tifa prompted. Her voice fluttered with anxiety; she could clearly see where this was going, as did Cloud. “Did you find the water?”

“Well, there wasn’t nearly as much water as I thought there was.” To prove her point, she dragged out a pallet of water bottles from… somewhere. There were a few bottles left, though some were crumpled and all of them were covered in a thick layer of dust. “And what I _thought_ were water jugs were actually, well…”

Barret, who was also leaning against the couch beside Cloud, scowled. “Well?”

“Well… they were wine barrels,” Yuffie explained. “Not water barrels.”

Cid suddenly laughed. “I fail to see how that would be a prob-”

“Of _course_ it’s a problem,” Aerith interrupted, cutting him off with a glare. “We need _water,_ not wine.”

“Says you,” Cid shot back. “I could use some wine.”

“Same here, listenin’ to you all,” Barret added under his breath. “I swear…”

Cloud pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the inevitable headache. “Aerith’s right,” he said, just loud enough so that everyone was forced to listen. “We _do_ need water. But five water bottles isn’t too bad, and besides: we could just melt the snow from the outside to drink.” He weakly gestured towards the fire to prove his point. “So, no problem.”

“Mmph,” Zack agreed from the floor.

Aerith slowly exhaled. “I guess that’s true.”

“Yeah, except there’s another thing,” Yuffie added, which had everyone looking at her. “And it’s even _worse._ ”

Something chilled within Cloud. _Even worse?_ his mind echoed, and he fully turned to face Yuffie directly.

 _“Mmmmph,”_ Zack complained into the floor, then finally rolled around to face them. The thin carpet left creases against his cheek as he mumbled, “Can we please not have a catastrophe for like, five minutes?”

Yuffie scowled at him. _“No,”_ she said matter-of-factly, and then added: “It’s Christmas Eve! And this place is the _worst place_ to be! There’s no decorations, no cookies, no music - not even _electricity!_ And you guys _don’t care_!”

Cloud sighed and relaxed a bit, glad that something wasn’t actually wrong.

“We _do_ care, Yuffie,” Tifa replied, ever the diplomat. “It’s just that these things happen. It’s unavoidable.”

Cid snorted. “Sure it was avoidable,” he declared. He turned to Cloud and continued, “If we’d just left _before_ the scheduled snowstorm, we wouldn’t even _be_ in this damn mess.”

Cloud glared right back as Cid. “I had to work!” he protested. Suddenly, he didn’t feel as tired any more. “My boss wouldn’t give me any time off - said that there weren’t enough drivers. You know how he is.”

“He’s the worst,” Zack agreed.

“And besides, _you_ agreed to wait for me.” Cloud crossed his arms over his chest. “I said that I’d be happy to drive by myself -”

“Except no one would have let your skinny ass drive alone, seeing there was a snowstorm planned and all,” Barret interjected.

“- and you didn’t agree,” Cloud finished, still frowning at Cid. “So don’t blame _me_ for this.”

“No one is blaming you, Cloud,” Tifa told him. Her tone was gentle; in fact, it was the same tone she used on Marlene when she skinned her knees playing at the park, a parallel that had Cloud’s frown deepening. “Besides…” She bit her lip, pausing, then resolutely continued, “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I’m the one that insisted we go to Icicle Inn for the holidays. If I had just suggested a warmer place…”

“Aw, don’t say that, Tifa!” Aerith jumped up and, placing her hands on her hips, looked at each of them in turn. Her gaze especially lingered on Cid, who only shrugged in response, and then she turned back to Tifa and said, “This isn’t your fault at all. Like you said, these things happen! And if I was going to be snowed in a creepy cabin with no plumbing or electricity, then I’m glad that it’s with you guys.”

Tifa managed a small smile, which only made Aerith’s smile even brighter. 

“So,” Aerith continued, “seeing as how it’s Christmas Eve and all, let’s try to decorate a little bit. You know, make this place a little more cheerful and less creepy! Any ideas?”

Cid huffed. “Turn off all of the lights and sit in silence to await the coming of the dawn?” he suggested grumpily.

“Uhh… right.” Aerith smiled sweetly. “Noted. Any other ideas.”

Vincent shifted his weight and suddenly looked upward. “There’s a box of Christmas decorations in one of the bedrooms upstairs. First door to the left.”

“Really?!” Yuffie’s expression lit up, and she began hurriedly for the staircase. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a Christmas celebration without a tree,” Tifa mused as she let out a small smile. “Maybe a small one…?”

Cid shot her an incredulous look. “You want to go back outside, into that icy hell, and chop down a _tree_?”

Tifa’s expression shuttered. “Well…”

“Cid, _you_ can do that, since you’re being such a scrooge,” Aerith said before Tifa could reply.

Cloud snorted, but Barret started laughing outright. _“Scrooge,”_ he laughed. “She got that right!”

Seeing that he was outnumbered, Cid finally sighed and said, “ _Fine._ I’ll go outside and cut you your damn tree.” He had the ghost of a smile as he said this though, and as he stood up he added, “I’ll even cut down the biggest damn one there is, just for you all. You’re all far too happy about bein’ stuck out here.”

“Ain’t no way I’m letting you go have fun with sawing a tree on your own.” Barret stood up as well before lifting his arms above his head and yawning. “Let’s get this over with.”

“And what should I do?” Cloud asked then, his eyes seeking Tifa’s as the de-facto leader. 

She was about to reply but got cut off by Aerith, who stepped into his line of vision. “I have a project for you,” she replied, far too cheerfully and expression far too innocent for Cloud’s tastes. He was immediately suspicious, but nodded regardless and followed her into the kitchen - and away from everybody else, he realized. He could feel Tifa’s curious stare at his back, but then her attention shifted as Zack asked how they should configure the living room to sleep everybody and put a tree in. He thought he heard Barret bellow something about a generator and “that damn keurig” as the door slammed on the blizzard outside.

Aerith paused when she reached one of the old kitchen counters and faced him, her arms pressed against the counter as she studied him for a moment with pursed lips.

“Uhh… What’s up?” he asked, trying to decipher her expression. “Am I in trouble or something?”

She glanced next to her at seemingly open air, and then back to him. “Sephiroth tells me you brought along some of your equipment.”

 _Crap._ Cloud pinched the bridge of his nose, then glared at the spot Aerith had just glanced at. “That was supposed to be a secret,” he hissed at the spirit, and could have sworn he saw a smile waver in place like a mirage. _Little shit._

Aerith cleared her throat a little, which made him look back up in curiosity. Her eyes were downtrodden, and her lips were pressed together in a familiar way.

“There’s a ghost,” Cloud said. It wasn’t a question.

She sighed, then nodded. “There’s a ghost,” she agreed in a soft voice. At the mention of a ghost, Cloud felt a chill run down his spine. Ever since their encounter with Hojo in the Shinra manor, the thought of chasing spirits and hunting the unknown was far less appealing.

“Here?” he asked. “Besides Sephiroth, I take it?”

“Yeah.” Aerith glanced over to the cabinet, which had Cloud jerking his gaze in that direction as well. He didn’t _see_ anything there, and he certainly didn’t sense anything either, but that didn’t mean much. “I... can’t sense him nearly as well as I usually do. I mean, I’m pretty sure it’s a he...”

Cloud’s breath rattled in his chest, but he crossed his arms and did his best to hide it. He could still feel the leather straps digging into his skin, the coldness of the table against his spine, the whiteness of Hojo’s smile in sharp relief from the dark, musty air of the basement…

He shook his head against the image. “Is this spirit… malevolent?” he eventually asked. “Like… dangerous?”

Aerith’s lips parted as she answered, but then there was a faint _pop_ of distilled air - and then, with Cloud’s next heartbeat, Sephiroth was standing in front of him. His image wavered and his outline was fuzzy, yet Cloud could clearly make out his thin arms and hospital gown loosely draped over his form.

It was painful to look at, yet Cloud forced himself to meet Sephiroth’s gaze. _This_ is why they stopped Hojo - so that nothing like what happened to Sephiroth and the other spirits, or _them_ for that matter, could happen to anyone else.

“This spirit is simply lost,” Sephiroth said. His voice was wispy and thin, almost more of a gust of wind than anything else. “Perhaps you and your group can help. That is what you do, after all, is it not?”

Cloud glanced uncertainty towards Aerith, who was watching the exchange with a curious expression. “I suppose,” he responded slowly before addressing her again. “But, Aerith… my stuff is back at the van. I didn’t bring it here.”

Aerith blinked, then frowned in realization. “Oh… I thought that your gear might have been helpful to have since I can’t see him very well, but it’s not worth hiking back to the van over…” She sighed and looked down at her hands, as if the answer was etched somewhere in the lines of her palms. “Well, that’s okay. With me, you, Vincent, and Sephiroth, maybe we can take care of this without anyone else knowing. I don’t want to get in the way of their Christmas Eve plans…”

Cloud pursed his lips. It felt… _strange_ going behind everyone’s back, but at the same time, he understood where Aerith was coming from.Yuffie especially would be brokenhearted if something got in the way of her celebrating the holidays.

Having made a decision, he opened his mouth to reply when a voice behind him cut him off.

“Like that’s possible in this small house,” Zack commented nonchalantly. Cloud whirled around to see both him and Tifa in the doorway. Both wore knowing smiles, though Tifa’s smile was far more modest than Zack’s full-blown, toothy grin.

Aerith laughed guiltily. “Hey guys,” she greeted. “Uh, well, Cloud, Sephiroth, and I were just talking here about a ghost that’s taken up residence in this house.”

“So we heard,” Tifa pointed out. “Were you planning on sharing that with the rest of us?”

The psychic blushed. “Um… I was kinda hoping we wouldn’t even have to even worry about it, but Cloud’s friend decided to clue me in and has been quite insistent.”

“Except all of my, um, supplies are in the van,” Cloud added. He avoided looking at Zack and Tifa when he admitted this. This was supposed to be a work-free weekend after all, a time to relax and recover from their adventures this year, and bringing his ghost-hunting gear _definitely_ wasn’t allowed.

But to his surprise, Zack’s grin only broadened. “You mean the supplies in your duffle bag?”

Cloud frowned. “Yeah…?”

“The same duffle bag that I carried all the way here and put behind the couch?”

“You… Wait, what?” Cloud glanced over Zack’s shoulder and, sure enough, a familiar duffle bag was stashed there, half buried beneath everyone else’s bags. Turning back to Zack, his brow pinched in confusion as he stammered, “How… How did you know?”

“Everyone knew,” Tifa said, which had Cloud’s ears flushing pink. Smiling a bit, she continued, “You’re many things, Cloud Strife, but _subtle_ isn’t one of them.”

Cloud shrugged. He really needed to take care of that.

“Everyone but me, apparently,” Aerith sighed with a frown. Then she perked up and smiled again. “Anyway, I’m going to see if I can sense more about this spirit.”

Tifa looked deep in thought for a moment before she said, “Let’s just try and keep this between us for now. For Yuffie’s sake,” she added hastily.

They agreed to keep it just between them and that was how, a few minutes later, Cloud zipped up his duffel with his K2 meter and recorder hidden in the pockets of the sweats. Zack and Tifa were just about done rearranging the furniture, having pushed the couch back a bit to make room for a Christmas tree and a makeshift bed made of blankets on the floor. The couch had an old, rickety pull-out bed they’d discovered, which could uncomfortably sleep three of them. Finally, Zack had enlisted Yuffie’s help after she reappeared at the bottom of the stairs, triumphant with her box of Christmas decorations, in grabbing the better of the mattresses from upstairs and dragging it down to go in the back of the room. Since the rest of the house didn’t have any heating, it made the most sense to stay with the heat of the fireplace.

Finding himself blissfully alone, Cloud moved to the couch, to settle in and stare into the orange flames. It took a few moments for his mind to catch up with the goosebumps on his arms that he wasn’t alone. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he saw the ghostly apparition sitting cross-legged next to him and studying him.

“Why are you hiding your equipment?” Sephiroth asked in his low, smooth voice.

Cloud shrugged and fidgeted with a stray thread on the gray flannel shirt that was entirely too big for him, hyper-aware of the weights in his pockets. “Well, this was supposed to be a vacation from paranormal stuff,” he replied simply. “I’m not technically supposed to have my gear with me, if you didn’t catch that.”

The spirit frowned. “But why not?” he pressed.

“Because, you know...it’s Christmas?” Cloud ended with a question as he shut his eyes for a moment. “The holidays are supposed to be a time to relax, not work. Although my boss didn’t get the memo,” he grumbled.

There was a thoughtful silence and Cloud sighed as he allowed the heat from the fire to do its best to warm his still-chilled bones.

“I...would not know,” Sephiroth finally answered in a curious voice. “The asylum didn’t exactly celebrate Christmas, and if they did, I was not privy to it.”

Cloud stared for a moment. _I forgot,_ he realized. Somewhere between their conversation and his exhaustion, between the icy wind moaning outside to the fire cheerfully roaring in the fireplace, he had forgotten that he was talking to a _ghost_ from the building of his childhood _nightmares._ His lips parted to apologize, but Sephiroth had disappeared again, just as the grunts and yells of an uncoordinated Yuffie and Zack led the way for the ridiculous sight of a large, old mattress and two discombobulated bodies trying to coax it down the narrow passageway of stairs. There was a moment where it looked as if the mattress was stuck - and with it Zack, whose feet were all Cloud could see as they were pressed uncomfortably against the wall behind the mattress - and then with a massive tug, the entire group came tumbling down the stairs in a cacophony of shrieks, curses, and thuds.

“What the _hell_ was that?” Tifa called out from the kitchen where she had been. She peeked her head around the doorway, followed quickly by Aerith, as Cloud stood up at the sight too.

At the foot of the stairs, Zack’s head poked up from behind the mattress, his accompanied hand holding one of Yuffie’s shoes. “Yuck,” he said with a grimace as he flung the shoe towards Cloud, who side-stepped it. “Yuff, you need to shower.”

“Speak for yourself, dumbass,” Yuffie called in a muffled voice from underneath the mattress. “Can you get this damn thing off me?”

Cloud rushed over to help Zack pull the giant cushion off the youngest team member just as the door banged open and swirling white snow came rushing in with the sound of the wailing wind. As Yuffie crawled out from underneath, Cloud glanced back at the door to see two figures in white tower through the doorway. Another second later he blinked and realized it was a snow-covered Barret and Cid, back from their search for a tree. After they dragged said tree in through the door, along with an electrical cord and a plastic bag, they slammed the door shut and shook themselves off. Gradually two humans appeared from the blobs of white.

“It is _freezin’_ out there,'' Barret coughed out a gasp as he shook off the snow stuck to his mittens. “Snow is persistent, too.”

Cid leaned against the door and let out a long, deep sigh before turning his stare to Yuffie. “You better like your damn tree,” he said, “because I ain’t going back out there again.”

Yuffie squealed in excitement as she saw the felled tree laying on the ground, its branches clinging to the clumps of snow that dangled precariously above the old floorboards. “It looks _perfect!_ ” she declared as she poked a branch and some snow slid from its needled embrace and onto the floor. “We need something to prop it up.”

Cloud let that scenario leave his mind as he worked on lifting his end of the surprisingly heavy mattress. Zack directed him to the back of the room and up against a wall, which is where they dropped it. With the configuration in place, there would be a walkway to the kitchen and the outdoors if one was needed.

It was then that Aerith quietly got his attention with a wave of her hand. Cloud glanced guiltily back at Yuffie, who was ordering Zack to stand the tree up. His hunting tools weighed heavily in his pocket. Then he faced her, nodded, and started heading her way.

“ _Oi!_ Where do you think you’re going, mister?”

Yuffie’s suspicious voice caught him and he looked back at her. “The bathroom,” he answered automatically before his mind could come up with a better solution. Surprisingly, the answer seemed to work.

“Fine! But come back soon, I’m putting you on ornament duty!”

He groaned, complaining, “Do I have to? Make Vincent do it or something.”

As if hearing his name, Vincent suddenly appeared from out of nowhere, looking like he’d been there the whole time. The man was certainly stealthy when he wanted to be. While Cloud made his escape into the kitchen, he heard Yuffie’s accusing tone asking where he had been.

“This is going to be difficult,” Aerith laughed nervously as she glanced over Cloud’s shoulder at the scene he’d left. “Yuffie is going to be on all of us.”

Cloud stretched his fingers and reached into his pocket to grab his recorder. “Let’s get this over with then,” he replied. “What did you find out?”

“Well…” she started slowly, glancing down at her twisting hands. “The spirit is definitely male. He’s been here awhile I think. He’s waiting.”

He frowned. “For what?”

“I think...a family member maybe? Daughter...or wife? Anyway, I think he’s mostly confined to a room upstairs, and he doesn’t seem able to interact with much. The only thing he’s tried to do since I reached out was close a door.”

Offering the ceiling a quick nervous glance, Cloud cleared his scratchy throat and sucked in a deep breath, asking, “Do you have a name for me to work with?”

“I think it’s...Randall?” she responded with a scrunched up face. “It’s hard to hear him. He keeps lamenting without listening. And the things he’s lamenting are...hard to pin down, too.”

He whistled lowly, finger brushing against the record button. “Helpful… I’ll go see what I can do.”

A hand grabbed his arm and he looked back at her.

“By yourself? Are you sure?” Her eyes were cautious and Cloud knew she was remembering their last encounter with the paranormal and the situations they’d ended up in. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which was beyond a lost cause right now because of the dampness the outside blizzard had left in it.

Back in the living room there came shouting, what sounded like Yuffie angrily arguing about something to do with lights. _We have electricity for lights?_ he inwardly wondered. Shoving shoved the recorder back in his pocket, he offered Aerith a firm nod, reassuring, “I’ll be fine. You said he’s not easy to interact with, right? And Sephiroth said he’s not malevolent. I’m sure the idiot is around here somewhere, so I won’t exactly be alone.”

He thought he caught a whisper from behind him saying “ _Rude._ ”

After sending Aerith back into the living room to help with damage control from Hurricane Yuffie, Cloud was easily able to sneak past the living room, down the short hallway and up the stairs by himself. Hands laced tightly around the objects he’d pulled out of his pocket, Cloud flicked the recorder on and let it do its work. At the same time, he held the K2 meter out for the first time in two months, took a steadying breath, and then activated it. At first when he reached the top of the stairs, there was absolutely no activity. For a moment he began to wonder if the meter had broken from the subzero temperatures outside.

Cloud started down the hallway, pausing every few feet to see if there were signs of life from the meter. Unfortunately, not even a flicker caught his eye. On the right was the first bedroom he and Vincent had sifted through earlier, and he paused in the doorway and gave it an extra few minutes to think. Downstairs, he could hear the commotion of excitement as they began to decorate the tree. For the time being, it sounded like his cover was good.

“Are you even working?” he asked the meter, as if it could answer for him. Then he decided to try another tactic, so he walked into the first bedroom and sat down.

“Hello?” he called softly into the empty space. “Is there anybody there?”

Holding the recorder out, he mentally counted to thirty before he paused the record button and played it back.

_“Hello? Is anybody there?”_

Nothing but silence followed. Not even a whisper or a hint of one was distinguishable on the recorder. After checking the K2 one last time, Cloud made the determination that this wasn’t the bedroom. He set the recorder on again and left the room, holding both out at an equal distance from his body as he set off for the other room.

The second bedroom was the room that Zack and Yuffie had grabbed the mattress from, which left only a dilapidated dresser, an old nightstand, and a rusting wire bed frame. Cloud sighed and stepped into the room, brandishing the K2 meter in hopes that it would flare to life.

And there it was.

Small at first, the slightest flickering of green lit up the meter. His heart skipped a beat and he held it out further along with the running recorder.

“Hello? Is there somebody there?” he asked again, his voice soft in the echoing near-empty room that smelled of must and cold. The K2 meter picked up a bit more, lighting the second bar. That was as far as it went, but he knew it was enough to work with for now, so Cloud stepped further inside until he was standing directly in the middle of the room.

“What is your name?” he asked then, giving the waiting silence a few moments to answer. “Are you Randall?”

The K2 meter sputtered for a moment and came back to rest once more on two lights. He took this as a good sign and continued, “I’m Cloud. I would like to help you.”

After waiting a few more moments, he flicked the recorder off and played back the feed. It was crude compared to running through video and audio footage back in one of the vans, but it would do in a pinch.

 _“Hello? Is there somebody there?”_ He heard himself say. There were a few moments of pure silence and a little static, and then…

_“Yes.”_

_“What is your name?”_

The static picked up and something was said he couldn’t quite make out. He heard his voice again, “ _Are you Randall?”_

“ _Yes._ ”

The voice seemed a bit more alert, a bit more attentive and it made him shiver, although whether in excitement or nervousness he wasn’t sure. After all, he didn’t believe in this crap until that fateful Halloween night at Shinra Manor…

Cloud flicked the recorder back on and took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said to Randall - and probably Sephiroth, who was most likely hanging around as he usually did. “I am here to help you, Randall. I need your help. Are you ready?”

He waited a few moments and hoped that the spirit was answering before he went on, “I need you to think really hard about why you’re still here. My friend said you may have lost a daughter or a wife?”

He let the question hang in the air for a while in order to make sure any answer or name he may have been working on would be properly recorded. “Okay,” he said slowly, introductory, “I’m going to hold this meter up to areas and I want you to help me find what you’re thinking about. The closer you are to what you’re thinking about, the more lights this will show. Can you do this for me, Randall?”

After a few more moments of silence, it was time to get to work. While there weren’t many objects to choose from, he meticulously combed the entire room and willed the meter to do something other than hover on its lowest reading. After a few minutes of this, he’d been over pretty much everywhere except the old bed frame, and so he crouched next to it and held the meter overhead.

The meter blinked a little more. At the same time, a chilliness Cloud was beginning to get used to settled over his chest. He glanced around himself warily to see a once-again materialized Sephiroth. This was the most he’d ever seen the ghost in a single day and it surprised him that his headache from the effort was only minimal.

“What you are looking for is underneath the bed,” Sephiroth supplied helpfully.

Cloud glared at him and dropped his arms in exasperation. “You couldn’t have helped out earlier?” he groaned as he stuffed the k2 meter back in his pocket. Setting the recorder on the bed frame, he got onto his stomach and shimmied underneath the bed with his arms outstretched, feeling in the dark space for anything that might be the object he was looking for. At the same time, he was doing his best not to think about the last time somebody was underneath this bed, and just how many spiders may be within his reach at the moment. Just the thought sent a shiver down his spine.

After a few too-long moments of searching, his hand finally found something cool to the touch and oddly textured. Fingers grasping around the object, he dragged it back out and straightened up while stretching his back. Then he looked at the item in his clenched fingers. It was…

“A comb?” Cloud asked in wonder as he turned it over in his hand. It was indeed a comb, a bit old-fashioned in style with wider teeth. It was navy blue with small, white hand-painted flowers scattered across the handle. If he had an eye for such a thing, he would consider it pretty.

Although silent in his ghostly movements, Sephiroth had drifted closer to study it too. “This is the object,” he agreed. “There is a name inscribed on the back, see?”

Cloud turned the object over and a faint but distinct name stood out to him. “Beatrice?” he voiced aloud. There was a beep in his back pocket from the K2 meter at the same time as the dresser drawer behind him slid open with a soft, shuddering scrape.

“He says yes,” Sephiroth interpreted.

Cloud ran a finger lightly along the surface of the name, wondering what he needed to do next. “So Beatrice is why he’s still here?” he guessed.

“Correct.”

Before he could do so much as consider the next steps, suddenly the soft conversations downstairs reached a new volume. Footsteps came thundering up the stairs and Cloud jerked up while sliding the recorder and comb into his sweatshirt pockets. He was just in time as a positively murderous Yuffie stood glowering in the doorway.

“What. The _hell._ Do you think you’re doing?” The youngest member of the team had a voice that was angry enough to make Cloud gulp in nervousness. His eyes trailed behind her to see the rest of the team peering in behind her, led by Aerith and Tifa. Zack was behind them with a sheepish grin.

Cloud sighed heavily and glanced at Sephiroth, who was still visible. “We’re… looking for something,” he said lamely while he cursed inwardly at his inability to come up with on-the-fly excuses.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” She held up a K2 meter, and he instantly felt in his pocket for his. It was still there, which meant the one she had was the second meter he’d had in his duffel. Which must have fallen out when he grabbed the other stuff…

“Shit,” he swore as he held his hands out. “Don’t look at me, Aerith roped me into this.”

Aerith let out an indignant noise. “Sephiroth insisted we help him,” she pleaded when Yuffie’s murderous glare turned on her. She pointed at the ghost. “Blame him!”

Considering he was already dead and no repercussions could come from a look, Sephiroth looked pretty unperturbed. “Is this not what your group does?” he asked. “This spirit needs help crossing over. It makes sense.”

Yuffie muttered something about helping him cross over instead, but she just crossed her arms with the K2 meter clutched in her first. “Well?” she demanded. “Did you help him cross over?”

“Working on it.” Cloud pulled the comb out and held it up. “The spirit, Randall, is still here because of Beatrice. His wife, I think.”

From the back of the group, Vincent and his unforgettable outfit pushed through to the front. He came into the room, gave a quick nod to Sephiroth, and held his hand out for the comb. Cloud gave it to him. At the same time, the bedroom door began to swing shut on its own.

“What the-”

Vincent waved them off. “Go back downstairs, we won’t be long,” he promised. With one more glowering stare from Yuffie, the entourage of footsteps began their trudge back downstairs while the door finished its shutting.

“This is Vincent,” Cloud said in a louder voice. “He can help you cross over.” He moved away from the other man and stood next to the ghostly apparition of Sephiroth. Together with crossed arms, they watched the scene.

Sephiroth was the first to speak, asking, “Is your young companion normally like this?”

“Usually,” Cloud deadpanned. He huffed a sigh and closed his eyes for a brief moment as he shot down a small drumming in the back of his skull. “You get used to her after a while. She just takes her Christmas seriously.”

The ghost chuckled. They fell into an amiable silence while Vincent studied the comb, then simply… sat on the floor, closed his legs, and entered some sort of trance.

“What’s he doing?” Cloud whispered.

Sephiroth narrowed is startlingly green eyes. “He is centering. Grounding. Connecting with the earth.” Glancing back at Cloud, he asked, “Do you not see it?”

“Of course not,” Cloud scoffed.

Vincent suddenly cleared his throat. “Randall,” he began. His voice was smooth and clear, and seemed to ring throughout the room like a bell. “Thank you for allowing us to remain in your home. My name is Vincent, and behind me are my companions Cloud and Sephiroth.”

Sephiroth’s form flickered slightly, but Cloud wasn’t sure why.

“We are here to help you,” Vincent continued, and then he paused. Silence stretched across the room, as tense and taut as a rubber band. “You’ve passed on, Randall. You and your wife. However, she has passed into the light while you remain in your home, waiting for her.” Another pause, this one briefer. Then: “Unless you pass into the light as well, you will not be able to see Beatrice again.”

Without warning, one of the lamps flickered to life. Cloud’s gaze snapped to it, his eyes wide with alarm. 

“I thought we didn’t have electricity,” he murmured to Sephiroth.

The ghost shot him a long look. “We don’t.”

Vincent slowly nodded towards the wall, and his gaze was fixated on something only he could see. “That’s right,” he said, voice low. “If you pass on, you’ll see her again. Beatrice is waiting for you.”

Another pause stretched across the room, and then suddenly Vincent got to his feet.

“Well?” Cloud pressed, when it became clear that Vincent wasn’t going to say anything. “How did it go?”

Vincent hummed. “Well,” he started before glancing out the door. “Tell me. Do you happen to know what type of tree Cid and Barret cut down?”

“Uh, not sure. Pine, I guess?”

“Pine would work,” Vincent replied, and then he was out the door. Cloud followed close behind, unsure what to make of this development. “I would also like juniper and cedar as well, if it’s here.”

“Um, I can look. But why?”

Vincent’s gaze leveled on the tree that Barret, Cid, and Zack were fighting to get upright. “For purification,” he said, and then walked up to the tree and snapped one of the branches off.

Zack looked offended. “ _Dude,_ ” he said. “Why -”

“For a spell,” Vincent interrupted. “There is a spirit residing upstairs, and Cloud and I are helping him move on.”

Barret arched an eyebrow. “Cloud is? Like, _our_ Cloud? Mr. I-don’t-believe-in-ghosts Cloud?”

Vincent sagely nodded. “The very same.”

“Well.” Cid pulled away from the tree just long enough to wipe his brow. “When yer done takin’ care of yer ghost, then get your asses down here and help out.”

“Yeah!” Yuffie shouted from the kitchen, then appeared a moment later with what looked suspiciously like hot chocolate powder smudged across her nose. “Hurry up and help the spirit pass or whatever, and then come back and help out!”

“And let us know if we can help,” Tifa added as she stepped out of the kitchen. Her lips were pursed and worried, and her hands were dusted with flour. “I know we’re all busy, but… well, we can all take some time to help a ghost. It _is_ our job, after all.”

“But it’s _Christmas Eve,_ ” Yuffie whined.

“And it’s our job,” Tifa affirmed. “Vincent, Cloud - just let us know what you need.”

Cloud swallowed thickly. “Uh, about that… got any juniper or cedar in there?”

“Yes!” Aerith’s happy shout rang out from the kitchen, and it was quickly followed by the rattling of drawers and cutlery. Then, a moment later, she appeared holding a large, wooden salad spoon. “This is cedar. I recognized the wood, my mom has the same kind,” she added at Tifa’s incredulous stare.

Cloud blinked in surprise. “Uh, that was easier than expected,” he said as Aerith handed over the spoon. “You wouldn’t happen to have a juniper spoon in there too, right?”

Aerith frowned, then started looking through the cupboards. “Mmm… Well, there is some old-looking juniper berry tea?” She pulled a metal tin out from the cupboard. Rust stained the once-black can a molted red and orange, and a fine layer of dust covered the top while spiderwebs draped from the sides like threads. “Will this work?”

“Well enough.” Vincent took the tea along with a large metal bowl, a lighter, and a white emergency candle Zack had found earlier. Together, he and Cloud went back to the upstairs bedroom. The light flickered as they approached, which sent Cloud’s nerves skittering. He wasn’t sure if he liked that very much.

Vincent began organizing his supplies on the floor. “Wait by the door,” he ordered when Cloud attempted to help, and Cloud - knowing full well that he was out of his element - was content to follow his instructions and watch. 

First, Vincent placed the bowl on the floor. Next, he placed the three items - the cedar spoon, the dried berries that he had removed from the juniper tea bags, and the pine branch - into the bowl.

“Randall,” he began, “I am going to begin the incantation. Listen to it, let your intuition guide you, and…” He lit the candle. “... May you know peace.”

The candlelight cast orange shadows that danced across his face.

As he spoke, his tone was low - so low that, if Cloud hadn’t been paying close attention, he might have missed it entirely. 

“A time for everything,” Vincent began. He held the lit white candle over the bowl. Milky wax began slowly spilling down its sides.

“... And everything in its place. May the everlasting gods guide you beyond this impasse…”

The wax dripped over Vincent’s slender fingers, then down onto the pine branch. It wept across the ragged bark like tears.

“Traverse in peace on the other side of the veil…”

As the wax continued to bleed down the candle and into the bowl, it splashed across the spoon and the berries, and the berries stained the pearly wax an almost violet shade. It was… poetic, Cloud thought. There was something about the ceremony that chilled him; he wanted to turn away and give Vincent privacy, and yet he could not tear his gaze away from the scene. All the while, the flame writhed and danced on its thin wick.

“My blessings,” Vincent continued, and slowly closed his eyes. “So mote it be.”

The candlelight flickered for a moment longer - 

\- and then Vincent pinched the flame with his fingertips, and darkness descended upon the room.

The silence that fell upon them felt different, somehow. Before, the silence was a tense thing. It swallowed any sound, muted Cloud’s racing heartbeat, and it had felt like it had been a crime to disturb it. Yet now, the silence felt… peaceful, relaxed, and possibly even hopeful.

Hell, it may have even felt a bit like Christmas.

Cloud was so caught up in his thoughts, he almost didn’t notice Sephiroth’s visage flickering beside him. “Hey,” he murmured to the spirit. Sephiroth didn’t meet his gaze; instead, his focus was pinned on the white candle Vincent was beginning to put into the bowl. “Hey, Sephiroth,” Cloud said, a little louder now. “You good?”

Sephiroth suddenly shivered. “I… _saw_ it,” he finally murmured. He turned to Cloud, wide-eyed. “The light that everyone talks about. I… _saw_ it. It was _there._ ”

Cloud’s mouth formed a small _o._ He did it again; for a moment, he had forgotten that Sephiroth wasn’t a living person but a ghost and, like all spirits, would be drawn to the other side. “Did you want to go too?” he asked after a pause. It felt strange to ask, especially now that he had gotten used to Sephiroth’s presence. He might even miss Sephiroth a bit if he decided to leave, but… “If you wanted to go -”

To his surprise - and strangely, also his relief - Sephiroth shook his head. “No,” he firmly stated. “Not yet. I still have something I need to do first.”

Cloud cocked his head quizzically. “Like what?” he asked.

But Sephiroth did not say. In fact, he faded entirely when Vincent walked forward holding his metal bowl of supplies. 

“We’re done here,” Vincent said by way of greeting. Yet, his tone wasn’t unkind. Instead he sounded relieved, maybe even a little accomplished. “Let’s go.”

“Did it go well?” Cloud asked, following Vincent down the steps.

Vincent nodded. “It did. Randall agreed to leave, and that agreement only grew more enthusiastic when he saw his wife.”

“Did you see her?”

“I did not. Only other spirits can see what waits beyond.”

Cloud frowned. “But I thought -”

“I can only see the veil, and what chooses to cross into our side,” Vincent explained. “But I cannot see what awaits us after death, no. Only the dead can witness that phenomena.”

“I see,” Cloud replied, but now only more questions swirled in his mind. What _did_ Sephiroth see in the light? Did he see Beatrice, Randall’s wife? Or did he see something entirely different?

 _But,_ he thought as he descended down the steps, _I can think about that another time._ Filing that thought away for later, he joined the rest of the team on the ground level. While Vincent was helping Randall’s ghost pass on, Zack, Cid, and Barret had finished getting the tree upright. The three of them were now lounging in front of the fire, exhausted, while Yuffie decorated the tree.

Yuffie’s choice of tree decorations was… interesting, though Cloud wouldn’t be the first to say it. Instead of regular Christmas ornaments like decorative balls or sparkling lights, she was just hanging up whatever interesting thing she found in the house: a rainbow magnet from the fridge, braided twine, and fishing lures. On top of the tree was a pair of antlers she had somehow managed to tie together.

Cloud was busy trying to figure out the engineering of the antlers - _how_ , exactly, did she managed to get them perfectly straight on such a thin branch? - when Tifa walked towards him. “Well?” she asked, jolting him from his thoughts. Two steaming mugs of hot chocolate were in her hands, and Cloud accepted one with a murmur of gratitude. Vincent took the other with muted thanks. “How did it go?”

“It went well.” Vincent took a small sip of the hot chocolate. “No problem whatsoever.”

Tifa’s shoulders slumped with relief. “That’s good. After what happened last time -” _last time_ referring to the Shinra Manor, “- I was just… worried,” she admitted.

Cloud arched a delicate eyebrow. “Worried?”

“Worried that it would turn into something bigger.” Tifa’s cheeks reddened, as if she was embarrassed to admit it. “Maybe it’s all just too fresh in my mind… But anyway,” she continued before Cloud could get a word in, “I’m glad that it went well. Good job, the two of you.”

“Three of us,” Vincent corrected.

Confusion wrinkled TIfa’s brow before realization lit up her expression. “Ah, right. Sorry, Sephiroth. I didn’t mean to forget about you.”

 _“It’s fine,”_ came a wispy voice.

Tifa’s expression softened. “Thanks,” she said, then turned her attention back to Vincent and Cloud. “Well, are you guys hungry? Aerith’s just finishing up making some canned soup for dinner, and -”

“I’m _starved.”_ Zack’s voice flitted up from the couch. “That happening anytime soon?”

As if on cue, Aerith’s face ducked out from the kitchen. “How about now?” she asked.

Zack smiled. “That sounds _awesome._ ”

“Great! Then come on in and grab a bowl. Or a cup,” she added with a brief glance over her shoulder. “And if you come quick enough, you’ll get a spoon. Loser gets a spork.”

“The _winners_ gets a spork,” Zack argued. At the mention of food, he had pried himself off of the couch and was now beelinging to the kitchen, his stride long and gaze filled with purpose. Cid and Barret, after some mumbling, picked themselves off of the couch as well and eventually shuffled towards the kitchen.

Cloud held back a bit. He didn’t feel like he did as much as the others, and he was content to wait until everyone else had gotten their soup before he grabbed one of the few remaining cups. The soup Aerith had chosen to make was a strange combination of spaghettios, chicken noodle soup, and cream of mushroom, and he frowned at the pink-tinged broth on his way back to the fireplace. Strangely enough, dealing with an unknown ghost was far less sketchy than this.

“Got you a spot right here, Spikey,” Zack called out. He patted the spot beside him, the one nearest the fire, and Cloud happily joined. Aerith had already given everyone a blanket and a pillow, and coupled with the warm - though questionable - soup, the roaring fire, the storm rattling the windows…

Cloud’s lips curved into a small smile as he sipped his soup. This trip had started out terrible, but right now… well, things were actually looking up. He had helped a ghost peacefully move on to the afterlife, they had a fire going, and now they even had hot chocolate and soup. Not bad, all things considered.

Yuffie seemed to disagree, however. “I wish we brought presents,” she said, her voice muffled by her mug of pinkish soup. “Then it would _really_ feel like Christmas.”

“Honestly, just lyin’ down is a gift,” Cid muttered. He had downed his soup in record time and was now lying on his side, his back to the fire and his head propped on his bent elbow. “Still can’t believe the vans got stuck…”

Tifa curled her knees in a little closer. “Well, at least we’re out of the storm,” she said, glancing warily at the windows. The glass panes were rattling with the wind, and outside Cloud could just make out thick clumps of pearly white drift to the ground. “Would have been bad if we had stayed in the van.”

Aerith’s gaze followed Tifa’s, and her lips pursed into a frown. “Agreed.”

The fireplace crackled, and then Zack said, “Well, if we can’t exchange gifts, maybe we can exchange stories?”

Even Vincent arched an eyebrow at that suggestion. “Stories?” he delicately repeated.

“Yeah. Like… Vincent, my favorite story about you is probably when I first met you,” Zack began. “Like, Tifa, remember back when you first bought the bar, and there was that weird prop coffin in the basement that the old owner would put out for Halloween?”

Tifa, seeing where this was going, smiled and nodded.

“So like, the bar had this nasty old prop coffin that was down there for no good reason. And nobody _told_ me that Vincent would sometimes take naps in it.”

“I work night shifts,” Vincent said, his tone indignant. “I get tired.”

“Right right right,” Zack replied with a wave of his hand. “So anyway, here I am down in the creepy bar basement looking for this old wine label, when all of a sudden the fucking coffin starts to open and out pops this pasty guy with a red cape and red eyes.” He laughed. “Scared me to death.”

Cloud grinned. “I remember that,” he said, and then turning to Vincent, added, “Zack called you Bat-Boy for a month.”

“I recall,” Vincent dryly replied.

Aerith suddenly cleared her throat. “Well, _my_ favorite memory of Vincent is back in the Shinra Manor, where… Hojo was chasing us up the stairs, and Vincent finished his spell with _Blessed be, Bitch._ ” 

Yuffie cackled. “I remember that!” Her laugh was nearly hysterical. “Gods, I was so scared. I would have laughed if, you know, I wasn’t running for my life.”

“And one of my most vivid memories of Aerith,” Zack continued, “is probably when she introduced herself to me. She said, and I quote: _Hi! I’m Aerith. I’m the flower girl of the team. Well, I’m also the psychic and I can talk to ghosts and stuff, but mostly I’m the flower girl.”_

Barret laughed. “What does that even _mean_?”

“I was describing myself!” Aerith replied, indignant. “It was an introduction!”

“I think my most vivid memory is when we were walking back from the food market,” Tifa said. She was lying on her stomach in front of the fire, and her arms pillowed her head as she continued, “We took a short cut we’d never taken before, and on the way we came across this old playground. Like you know, the kind with swings and slides and stuff, and you said that you wanted to ride on the swing.” Tifa smiled into her arms. “I think we ended up staying there until three in the morning, and we drank an entire bottle of wine, too.”

Aerith blinked at Tifa. “Really?” she said after a pause. “Like, that _sounds_ familiar, but I don’t remember…”

Tifa laughed. “My memory is foggy too, don’t worry.”

Barret cleared his throat. “All right, now it’s my turn. Cloud,” he said, which had the blond tensing. “This is my most favorite memory of you. It was back when I didn’t know you all too well, but Tifa gave me your work number so I ended up having pizza delivered since Marlene was sleepin’ over at a friends house.”

Cloud’s cheeks reddened. He remembered this incident _distinctly._

“But anyway, Cloud’s an efficient guy, right?” There were murmurs of agreements. “So of course he shows up early. But I had just taken a shower, an’ I didn’t want to keep the guy waiting. So I walk to the front door - towel wrapped around me, mind you - and of course, right when I go to open the door, my towel snags on the door handle.”

Aerith covered her mouth, wide-eyed. Zack giggled. Yuffie made a disgusted face.

“So, I’m rushing to grab my towel, I dropped my gil somewhere, and the entire time this petite asshole is standing there watchin’ the situation unfold. And,” Barret continued, hands clasped beneath his chin, “do you know what he then said to me?”

“What?” Tifa breathed.

Cloud buried his face in his hands. Any more of this, and he’d probably join Randal in the light.

As if sensing Cloud’s distress, Barret’s grin widened. “This asshole then told me, _Not interested._ As if I was makin’ a move on him! And then he held out his hand for the money!”

“I didn’t know you enough yet!” Cloud’s voice had climbed a bit higher, but he didn’t care. “I deal with weird people all the time, okay? And I just figured that you were one of them!”

Aerith looked mortified. “You deal with weird people _all the time_?”

“Well,” Zack quipped as he sipped his hot chocolate, “he gets a lot of practice dealing with you bunch.”

Aerith scowled at him. “Rude,” she said matter-of-factly. Cid only snorted.

“All right, Cid,” Yuffie said. “You’re turn.”

Cid sighed. “Do I gotta?”

“Yes!”

“Ugh, fine.” Cid rolled over to better face the team, and his finger drummed against the floor as he thought. “Hmm… actually, I do have one. Yuffie, remember that April Fools a few years back?”

“The one with the worms, or the other one with the fish?” she replied.

“Neither. The one with the water you died blue.”

Yuffie’s expression scrunched. “Blue water?” she repeated, and then her entire expression lit up. _“Water,_ ” she cackled. “Wait, was this the time when I put blue food coloring in water, then poured that in that old cleaning spray bottle? And then drank it on the train?”

“Made seven people gag and three people leave,” Cid said proudly. “Gotta admit, I was impressed with that one.”

“Just wait until _next_ year,” Yuffie said, her grin sharp and wicked. “I’ve been planning this one for a while now. It’s gonna be _awesome_.”

“It better not involve any stink gas in the vents or glueing all of my spice jars shut,” Tifa warned.

Yuffie held her hands up in surrender, expression still devilish. “I swear it doesn’t. I swear. It’ll be perfectly innocent.”

Tifa’s eyes narrowed as if not believing her. “Hmm…” Cloud was inclined to agree with her wariness.

“Yuff, if you need backup, you let me know,” Zack called easily.

Yuffie shot Zack a thumbs up. “ _Hell_ yeah.”

“All right, my turn,” Barret said. “Whatcha all got on me?”

“I remember delivering pizza to you for the first time,” Cloud deadpanned, which earned him a laugh from Zack and a harsh scowl from Barret at the mention of their first _memorable_ encounter once again.

“ _Besides_ that,” Barret said.

“Ooh, I have one,” Aerith suddenly cut in. Propping her chin on her hands, she continued, “It was the day before Marlene’s first day of school, and Barret, you and her stopped by my flower shop.”

Barret slowly nodded. “Because I didn’t know how to do her hair.”

“And you wanted to learn how,” Aerith finished. “And I showed you how to make a braid, a twisted braid, and a braid crown.”

“Can’t forget the flower crowns, either.” Barret softly smiled at the memory. “Marlene liked the daisies best.”

“And then we all baked made chicken pot pie for dinner, and iced lavender bread for dessert.” Firelight flickered across Aerith’s expression as she gently smiled. “That was a fun day.”

“It was a fun day,” Barret agreed. “Maybe we can do it again for this next semester, too.”

Aerith’s green eyes practically sparkled. “I’d love that.”

Vincent’s low voice suddenly drifted across the room. “Well, my most distinct memory of Barret is our first ghost hunting trip together.”

Cloud turned to Vincent in surprise; not only surprised at the fact that he was contributing, but that he had worked with Barret often enough to have a favorite memory. As far as Cloud knew, Vincent rarely worked with anyone besides Cid. It was partly why Cloud was so stunned that Vincent allowed him to watch the spirit passing ritual. 

“Our first trip?” Barret repeated, confused.

Vincent nodded. “That’s right. It was a simple exercise, just to see if a spirit was residing at the theater before we brought in all of our heavy gear. I had been expecting to simply walk into the theater and peacefully communicate -”

“But you know me, Vincent,” Barret grinned. “I ain’t the _peaceful communicator_ type.”

“I realize that now,” Vincent replied dryly, “because before I could connect to the spirits, you told all of them that they better materialize before you lose your patience.”

“Marlene was still in day care back then,” Barret argued. “It was nearly time to pick her up. And besides, it _was_ effective.”

The corner of Vincent’s lips lifted into a small smile. “That it was,” he agreed.

“All right, Cid’s turn now,” Yuffie called as they all turned on their group leader.

“Cid, my clearest memory of you is when a ghost told you to fuck off from a spirit box,” Zack laughed. 

Cid made a face. “I remember that damn ghost. You’re talking about the one in the Sector Four hotel, right? The one that hated my guts?”

“From what I recall, it told you to ‘fuck off’ several times,” Vincent added sagely.

“Yeah,” Yuffie agreed with a snigger. “It _really_ didn’t like you.”

“What? If the ghost doesn’t like me, then that’s its business,” Cid sniffed. “It certainly ain’t mine.”

“I also remember when I was doing a delivery outside of town, on this old back road, and broke down,” Cloud added. It had been years ago; a rural house ordered a pizza, and while he typically didn’t make deliveries that far out, it had been a slow day so he figured he could make it there and back in record time. 

Except it had taken him much longer than he had expected, and on the way home, his car had broken down - probably from that nasty pothole he hadn’t noticed in time. Smoke had billowed from the engine and something was leaking into the dry dirt; oil? Maybe coolant? They never did figure it out.

“The tow truck wouldn’t come out there that far,” Cloud mused, “and I got desperate and ended up calling you.”

“And good thing you did, too, or else you’d still be out there with a failed transmission,” Cid stated.

Cloud laughed, a dry sound. “Probably,” he agreed. “But anyway, even though it was late at night in the middle of gods-forsaken nowhere, you still showed up with your truck, picked me up and hauled away my car, and still managed to fix it in your shop.”

Cid grinned. “And yer _welcome_.”

“And I guess we saved the best for last?” Zack, having finished the hot chocolate now, had all of his dishes set aside and now had his chin propped up on his pillow. “All right guys, what’s your most memorable memory of _me_ ? _”_

“Probably that one time when you laughed so hard during dinner, you snorted a pea,” Yuffie giggled. “And then you snorted and it shot out like a rocket.”

“Or maybe,” Aerith mused, “that one time you swore up and down you knew how to play a guitar, but then held it backwards.”

“Honestly, you saving my life from Hojo, probably,” Cloud added. Zack met Cloud’s gaze, his lips a hard line at the memory. “Like honestly…” Cloud continued, his voice a stammer, “if you hadn’t broken out of your cell when you did…” 

Zack clasped Cloud on the shoulder. “Don’t mention it, Spikey. I think everyone saved each other that day, anyway.”

“And it _sucked,_ ” Yuffie complained. “I like this adventure much better.”

“Even though we got stuck in a snow drift, and then had to hike through the blizzard to find shelter?” Cid dryly commented.

“Are you kidding?” Yuffie shot Cid a crook grin. “That was the best part!”

Tifa crossed her arms beneath her head. “I just hope the storm eases up tomorrow. If we’re stuck here another day…”

“Well, it’s not like we’re going to run out of soup anytime soon,” Aerith joked. “I can always try a different combination.”

Now _that_ was a horrifying thought. “I’m sure the roads will be fine tomorrow,” Cloud stated quickly. Or at least, they _better_ be, because while he enjoyed spaghettios, cream of mushroom soup, and chicken noodle soup all separately… together in one bowl - or mug, in his case - was something else entirely.

Cid suddenly yawned. “Well, I’m exhausted. This was a day and a half, and I’m sure that tomorrow ain’t gonna be any easier.”

“As long as we don’t have to cut down another tree,” Barret added, and Cid grunted his agreement.

Tifa glanced across their little group. “I guess we _should_ all head to bed…”

“I think so too,” Aerith agreed. “Good night, everyone.”

“Night,” Cloud replied, and a chorus of _good nights_ and _sleep wells_ answered as everybody settled into their spots around the merrily crackling fire.

He had never fallen asleep faster in his life, and when he dreamed, he dreamed not of basements but of falling snow and shining lights.

* * *

As it turned out, the storm passed on during the night. The rising sun peeking through the last of the clouds stained the landscape shades of pink and gold, and the crystalized snow that covered everything was dazzling in the pale morning light. Pine trees bowed beneath the weight of the heavy snow piled on their branches. Birdsong flitted from tree to tree. The ground itself was a blanket of white, unbroken save for a few small tracks trailing here and there.

“Beautiful,” Tifa breathed softly. Her breath fogged up the window, and she turned to Cloud with nostalgic eyes. “You know, I don’t think I’ve seen snow like this since Nibelheim.”

Cloud gazed upon the pearly, sparkling world, and he hummed his agreement. While the view did look pretty magical, all he could think about was how cold it was going to be outside, and how woefully underprepared he was for the weather. _Maybe I can take one of the blankets with me again,_ he wondered.

The group had woken up a while ago, and they had already packed up their meager belongings. The plan was to hike back to the van and try to get it moving again, but that future was already looking bleak under layers of freshly-fallen snow. Not only would they have to dig out both vehicles, but then they’d have to continue to try to drag the stuck van out of the ditch. 

“Watcha thinking about?” came a voice on his right, and Cloud turned his head to glance at Aerith.

He shrugged. “Just thinking about the vans,” he replied, turning back to the window. “Hope they’re all right.”

“They better be,” came Cid’s gruff voice behind him. “I didn’t haul ass all the way out here just to spend my hard-earned vacation in some abandoned cabin.”

“Agreed,” Yuffie announced from behind them, “so let’s _march._ On the double, people! We have vans to unearth!”

It was much easier hiking back to the van that it had been walking away. For starters, now they could actually see in front of them instead of having to keep close together so that they didn’t get lost. The lack of wind was also nice, and though it was still cold - Cloud was already beginning to shiver in his hoodie and blanket and he was definitely missing the beanie he had lost the day before - the cold wasn’t nearly as bitter as it had been that first night.

“Hope the owners don’t mind that we used their stuff,” Aerith murmured to Tifa, who was walking in front of him.

Tifa shook her head. “I left a note explaining the situation, and some money to pay for whatever we took. We should be okay.”

“Plus, we cleaned up!” Cid loudly added. “That plus was a dusty mess, and it had a spirit haunting to boot.”

“Exactly,” Zack piped up with a grin. “ _They_ should be thanking _us_.”

Aerith laughed. “That’s one way to put it!”

It wasn’t long before they found their vans - and yet, to their shock and delight, both vehicles had already been dug out of the snow. Not only that, but the entire road had been cleared, and a tow truck was currently hauling Tifa’s van out of the snowed-in ditch.

Cloud exhaled loudly in relief. “Oh thank the gods,” he said to no one in particular.

“Ah, I see that you all are a-okay,” said the tow truck driver as they got close. He was a middle-aged man with cropped brown hair and a thick beard, wearing a denim jacket and wide-brimmed cowboy hat. He was standing next to his truck and he turned to close the driver’s door as they approached, which revealed a yellow chocobo emblazoned on the back of the jacket. “I received a call from a worried driver an hour or so ago. When I got here and saw the state of your vehicles, I was expectin’ the worst.”

“No, we’re fine,” Tifa assured. “Thank you so much for digging it out for us, honestly. We tried yesterday, but…” Her voice trailed off as she gestured to the foot-deep trenches where her van was sitting a few minutes before.

The driver chuckled, as if that was to be expected. “Well, I’m sure that blizzard sure didn’t help none. Also, my name is Sam,” he greeted. “Chocobo Sam is what they call me, I’m the owner of Sam’s Chocobo Towing Co.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam,” Tifa replied with a relieved smile.

“So, Sam.” Cid, who had been standing towards the back of their group, suddenly stepped towards the front. “How much do we owe you, for busting our van out of the snow?”

“You got towing insurance?” Sam asked, and then Cid nodded, continued, “Then you don’t owe me nothin’. Just give me the name of your insurance, and then I’ll be off. Besides,” he added with a faint grin, “I didn’t exactly tow you anywhere, now did it?”

“Well, you towed us out of the snow,” Yuffie pointed out suspiciously.

Sam inclined his cowboy hat. “Don’t mention it,” he replied, and then he took a piece of notepaper from Cid - undoubtedly something about insurance, Cloud was certain of it. “Now, I’m off to another tow down the road - guess someone hit some black ice.”

“Ouch,” Aerith said, making a face.

Sam nodded. “Ouch indeed,” he agreed. “Now I’ll best be off, but you all take care now. Drive safe and drive slow.”

“Will do,” Tifa agreed.

It wasn’t long before everyone had piled into their respective vans and, after blasting the heat on max, they were once again cruising down the road towards Icicle Inn after their fifteen-hour delay.

“Are we there yet?” Yuffie asked after a few minutes had passed.

Cloud was wishing for an impressive third time in the five minutes they’d been driving that she had gone in her team’s van. His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he carefully maneuvered down the icy stretch of road. _“No,_ ” he replied shortly. “Quit asking.”

“What’s the first thing you want to do when we get to Icicle Inn?” Tifa asked the team.

Yuffie’s expression lit up. “Make a snowman!”

“I’m going to eat,” Zack stated matter-of-factly. “I’m going to eat _everything_. Except soup,” he added as a joking afterthought.

After sticking her tongue out at Zack, Aerith added, “Maybe walk around a bit and explore?”

“And I,” Cloud added after a pause, “am going to buy some proper winter clothes, because my hoodie just isn’t cutting it out here.”

The van erupted into laughter and he used a hand to pull his blanket a little closer around his shoulders. “You think?” Yuffie teased.

 _“I will...search for answers,”_ suddenly whispered a familiar voice in Cloud’s ear… but when Cloud glanced in that direction, Sephiroth wasn’t there.

His lips pitched into a frown. _Answers?_ he wondered. _What answers?_ He didn’t know what Sephiroth meant, and he filed the thought away to discuss on a future date with the spirit. First things first: they had to make it to Icicle Inn in one piece, and that meant paying attention to the road.

The rest could be saved for later.


End file.
